One more day.

Well folks, tomorrow is the day. My husband is moving out. How am I feeling? I really can’t put it into words. I feel it all. Every single emotion.

This is what I have been looking at for the past 2 days. It makes it real. Every morning I wake up, when I get home from work, when in go to cook dinner or sit on the couch to read a story to the kids. I see his life, packed up in boxes.

I thought it would help if I helped him pack, maybe even be empowering: putting everything of his away, and starting “fresh“. It wasn’t. Now, don’t get me wrong, at first, it was awesome, “I’m gonna throw this stupid shirt in the box!” and “ugh, I always hated these sweatpants, good ridden!” But after the first few boxes of just clothes, I got the more important stuff. I was emptying drawers and came across every single card I have ever given him. Damn, my pack-rat tendencies! Every Birthday, Anniversary, Fathers day, and just the I Love You cards (and of course, I’m one of those people who don’t just give a card, I usually write a full-length novel explaining in detail why I feel the way I feel). It was hard. There were some I couldn’t even open because I remember exactly the way I felt when I picked out the card and the exact words I wrote on the paper.

Then I got the pictures. The last photo of his grandmother before she passed away put me over the edge, I loved that woman. She made me feel so incredibly welcome every single time we went to her house. On our very first Christmas together I was pregnant (yup, I know) She welcomed me with a hug and rubbed my belly (excited for grandbaby #7, even though I was only 6 weeks along) His dad made cornish hens, and they were incredibly undercooked (to this day I can’t even look at one, and I snicker at the thought of them) . She made a huge fuss about it and insisted on making me a sandwich so they baby doesn’t starve. She was diabetic and had lost her lower left leg because of it. We had every family get together at her house since it was the easiest for her to maneuver around. And I kid you not, she had the longest pinky fingernail I have ever seen. We used to joke about it being her “coke” nail….Yes, I know drugs are no joking matter, but on the day I noticed this nail, she was taking a shot glass full of her prescription medications, with her coke-nail finger pointing straight up in the air. She loved her Southern Comfort and brought her own flask to our wedding. She was the first person to make me feel like I was a part of their family, and I miss her dearly.

He said he didn’t want much of anything from the kitchen. I packed up a few glasses he won from a raffle and the cookbook his mother made with all her favorite recipes. Then I looked in the cupboard and grabbed out the 2 giant snowflake mugs. During our first Christmas together (it really was one of the best Christmas’ ever) we were decorating the apartment and took a hot chocolate break. He took out these mugs and made the creamiest hot chocolate I had ever had. He topped it off with giant peppermint sticks (you know the ones that are 6 inches tall and a half inch thick) We sat on the floor and talked and talked and talked, by the time we went to drink our hot chocolates, the peppermint stick had mostly dissolved and the flavor was so strong, we couldn’t take another sip. Later that night we went and got a Christmas tree. It was my first time getting a real tree. We went to the tree farm and he cut it down. It didn’t look that big outside, but when we brought it in, we could barely get it through the door. When it was finally set up in the living room, it touched the ceiling. It was massive. At the end of the night, we cuddled up on the couch, with the snowflake mugs and hot chocolate, this time without the peppermint stick.

Oddly enough, that will always be one of my favorite memories of us. We were “new loves” and completely smitten. The way he could make me laugh was incredible, we could spend hours talking not get bored and the pride he showed when he introduced me to his friends, was undeniable. I still can’t figure out where we lost it. Where we went wrong.

Then I gave the kids each a box and helped them pack up for Daddy’s house. Definitely the hardest part. But you know what? They are so excited. They are looking forward to adventures with Daddy. And I am beyond impressed and thankful that I have the best children in the world. I know they don’t completely understand the situation, but the way we have talked about it, they don’t really have a reason to be sad. The fact that they are so positive really helps me, it’s hard to be negative when I look at their smiling faces and know they are the reason we can’t just give up.
My heart is broken, going through this entire situation. And to be honest, I’m not even sure I understand it completely. I don’t know what I am going to do without him here. But I am looking forward to figuring it out. I am looking forward to having the time to figure out what I want. What I need. Who I am and who I want to be. I am positive my life is going to be less stressful dealing with the uncertainty of his world. When will he be home and how will his mood me? Being able to make plans and not have to cancel them because something in his world changed. Being able to be me. Being able to just breath and relax. Being able to focus on my children.

Most of all, I am excited to live my life.

I don’t know how our relationship will turn out. But I am glad I can say, we are doing what we need to do, to at least try to make it work.

In the end, if we don’t make it, we can look back and know for a fact, we did everything we could.

And if we do make it, we will know that this is something we fought for, making it more precious than ever.